Of Love and Laughter
by CathryForever
Summary: A Cathry one-shot, just written for fun. I wanted to give them some light-heartedness, and ended up giving them a little more than that. *ahem* Rated M, people! Wine and laughter and fun times for my beloved Cathry. :)


**So, I was just randomly thinking this evening about how I don't think I've read a story about laughter, with Cathry. And I ended up staying up late and writing this tonight. It turned into my very first attempt at an M (warning - M!) story, so here goes. It's a one-shot - I was just having some fun. :) I hope you like it.**

With the noise of the evening event fading slightly behind her as she left the banquet hall to retire for the night, Catherine pressed her fingers to the back of her tired neck as she walked languidly, relishing in the cool quiet of the hallway. Her head felt fuzzy and heavy from the copious quantities of wine she had indulged in, and her ears still rang from the rousing laughter and conversation, and the musicians' contribution to the evening. She felt tired and lazy, warm and comfortable in her own skin. Even her corset seemed bearable, as though it was part of her body.

As she dropped her arms back to her sides and lifted her head, she lost her footing slightly, and heard the quick steps of someone walking to catch up with her. Someone who appeared at her side, arm raised in invitation to her. She glanced up with surprised interest, and then shook her head, steeling her expression again.

"Henry." She sighed in tired exasperation. "What are you doing? You should be conversing with nobles for the good of the country, or something like that."

He waited without answering, arm held ready for her to take it, keeping a steady, unquestioning gaze into her eyes. After a pause, and a slight eye-roll, Catherine laid her hand ceremoniously atop her husband's, and they began a slow stroll in the direction of her chambers.

Henry spoke up, "I thought I'd better come to your rescue. I couldn't help but notice your slightly inebriated state, Catherine – how much wine DID you drink tonight?!" He smirked, enjoying his own presumptuousness. "Every time I glanced in your direction this evening, you had a goblet to your lips!"

Catherine scoffed irritably, "I can't think why you're singling me out at a banquet like tonight's?! The whole room was full of people acting the same – you included. I'd like to see YOU walk in a straight line!"

"I'm here steadying _you,_ aren't I? I can hold my drink perfectly well, Catherine. I'm just being a gentleman by escorting my wife to her chambers when she has clearly indulged too much."

Catherine stopped and jerked her arm away from his, facing him down with a glare. "Desperate to ensure that you won't be embarrassed by your delicate, overwhelmed little Queen in front of all of France, are we? I'll have you know that _I_ can manage my own intake just as well as the rest of them! I am perfectly steady thank you, and I can make my _own_ way to my chambers, Henry. Good night!"

Chin held high, she turned and swept off down the corridor with as much dignity as she could muster. Unfortunately, turning suddenly from her husband had sent her head reeling slightly with the effect of the alcohol, and she staggered a little, throwing her hand out to regain her balance against the wall. Closing her eyes and dropping her head, waiting for the hallway to steady, she braced herself for what she knew would follow.

A deep rumbling chuckle echoed up the hallway to where she was standing. His footsteps followed, and there he was by her side again, face glowing with amusement as he looked at her, raising his arm once again. For a moment, she wanted to snap irritably at him, or push him away in her annoyance, and remain all bristles and prickles until she could be alone in her chambers. But suddenly she saw the humour in the situation, and relaxed. Henry enjoyed seeing the little sparkle in her eyes as a smile played around the corners of her lips, and she took his arm. They walked in silence until the corridor brought them to Catherine's chambers.

"I absolutely insist on seeing you to something safe to sit on." The King's mouth twitched and his eyes held laughter in them, as Catherine left his arm to walk ahead of him into her chambers. With the doors closed behind them, she faced him with curiosity.

"Am I just a source of amusement to you this evening, husband? Have the events of the night been so dull?!"

"No," he chuckled, "It's just that it's a rare treat to find Catherine de Medici slightly unhinged. I think it quite becomes you!" He paused, enjoying her exasperated expression with the firelight flickering over cheeks flushed by her wine consumption. Suddenly he was struck with an idea, "Catherine! Do you remember the time when we stashed those bottles of fine wine? The time we planned a night escapade, just the two of us?!"

"… And we were almost caught?" Catherine smiled at the memory. "I do. Weren't they some sort of special import from the King of Something-or-other? I can't remember…"

"That's it – Bavaria, or something. I don't know. I just remember the wine was superior quality and my Father would have had our heads, Dauphin and Dauphine or not, had he found out!" Henry laughed lightly at the memory, and then took Catherine by surprise, suddenly grasping her arm in excitement. "Are they still there?!"

She lifted her eyes from the hand on her arm to look at him. He was so like the Henry she used to know and love. He suddenly seemed like the young prince she married all those years ago, fun and lively, all his seriousness fading away. She felt detached enough with the alcohol buzzing through her veins, to willingly submit to his lightheartedness for now. She smiled, feeling young and carefree, and dare she say it – a little mischievous.

"Yes." Catherine took his other hand in hers, "I never moved them from the passageway, so unless someone else has…" They crossed the room, feeling like teenagers in each other's company, and she pressed on the panel that would open the passageway near her bedchamber. The hidden door creaked open and she rummaged briefly a couple of feet to the left of the entrance, inside the passage. With a light clinking sound, she reappeared to meet Henry's approving stare, brandishing two very dusty bottles of fine wine. Picking up two goblets from the side table as they moved back towards the fireplace, she suggested, "Shall we try some? After all these years, they mustn't go to waste."

Catherine seated herself on her chaise. Henry settled himself comfortably on the plush rug in front of the relaxing blaze of the fire. Quiet and contemplative as his wife filled the two goblets with the forbidden drink of their youth, Henry allowed himself to consider for a moment. Things were usually strained between Catherine and himself. They had not been close or even friendly in a long while. He knew she felt the same way. Should he be here at all? Especially when it was because of alcoholic indulgence. He didn't want to be taking advantage of his wife in any way, knowing that she might be filled with regret – he knew she liked to keep him at arm's length - and the subsequent anger and bitterness in his direction as a result, once she was properly sober again. Also, the warmth and merriment of the evening, of this moment in the intimacy of her chambers was making… making him feel much more… _enamoured_ with her than he had of late. She looked a picture of beauty as he looked up at her from the rug, noticing the firelight accenting her amber locks, and showing off her features – her shapely little nose, her soft lashes, that determined little chin – all of them sharpened by the flickering light of the fire. Her cheeks were flushed pink with the warmth of the room, and of course the wine she had consumed. She wore a gown of dark red silk, laced up tightly at the back with gold thread. The neckline was lower and more broad than many of Catherine's other dresses, and it flattered her neck and shoulders in shape, edged with gold. Henry had always thought his wife to be especially beautiful in reds and golds. Her hair, so exquisitely sculpted for the evening, was still coiled and swirled beautifully up the back of her head and onto the top, where an elegant crown finished off the look. Stray curls and wisps had escaped from their pins now that the evening was over, and they made her look most enchanting in the firelight. Henry had a sudden urge to take one of the wispy strawberry blonde curls in his fingers, and let its silky threads slip through them, watching to see if they would bounce back into a curl or not. She was mesmerizing. He knew some of the pull was the wine, but still….

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Catherine eyed him suspiciously as she leaned forward to hand him a goblet of wine.

"I… I was just… remembering – thinking…. You – you look beautiful tonight, Catherine."

His wife narrowed her eyes slightly at him, one eyebrow raised, as she sipped wine from her goblet. Silence fell for a moment, while they enjoyed the warmth of the luxurious wine.

"Ohhh…" Catherine groaned in approval, "This was worth the wait!"

"Mmmm…" agreed Henry, swallowing slowly, relishing in the rich fruity smoothness.

Another moment of silence. Their eyes met briefly, and then flickered away.

/-/-/-/-/

Laughter rang off the walls of the Queen's chambers, an hour or so after the King and Queen had arrived there that evening. The two sat before the fire, relaxed and enjoying each other's company, temporarily putting aside all their distance and animosity. Henry sprawled on the rug, leaning back, propped up by his elbows, one knee casually raised. Catherine had relaxed into a semi-recline on her chaise nearby, which was as flexible as she could be whilst still wearing her corset. An empty wine bottle stood on the low table next to the chaise, a second open beside it.

Catherine felt more at ease than she had in a very long time. She knew she was being well and truly affected by the wine, and she could see that Henry was too, but she was past caring. It felt so good to relax and just BE, to enjoy each other's company and to laugh a little. The more they sat and talked, the more they laughed and relaxed, and it made a little spark of joy dance in her heart, even if it was just for tonight.

Henry, too, was feeling the effects of the excellent vintage he was sharing with his wife. He enjoyed her company so much that nothing else outside of the room seemed to exist for him at that moment. It was so freeing and he felt he could have stayed forever in that state with his wife's company.

She giggled again and brought her goblet of wine to her lips before continuing their light-hearted conversation. "Did you hear the Countess tonight, Henry? When she – when she - " and she broke off into peals of laughter. Henry rejoiced in the wonderful sound of his wife's laughter. It was like golden bells, not light and tinkling, but full and bounding when she threw her head back with abandon and let her laughter flow. He laughed with her, unable to resist, so infectious was the sound.

Catherine tried again, stilling her quivering sides but her words coming out more high pitched than they would if she had control over herself properly, "She – the servant asked her if she would like a b- br- bread roll…" she gulped and struggled to compose herself, breathing hard, "And the look on her face!" Stifled giggles and gasps for a moment. "She said she wasn't aware of the _rule_ about bread!" As much as she was aware that the unfortunate accent-related joke was only marginally funny, Catherine had given herself with abandon to the place where people go when a substance influences their brain and _everything_ is hilarious. Tears ran down her face as she clutched her stomach, rolling onto her side on the chaise, merciless laughter surging over her in waves, as her husband watched her, laughing helplessly in turn at the sight before him.

His wife raised a finger as she lay there in her state, as though to call attention to the fact that she hadn't finished what she was saying, and was about to continue, but that was as far as she got before collapsing back into hysterics again. She slapped the soft seat of the chaise repeatedly with the palm of her hand, overwhelmed with mirth, and the sight was so comical that Henry was by now in a similar state himself. Lying flat on his back on the floor, his deep rolling laugh rang off the stone walls like bells. Every time he thought himself ready to compose himself, and lifted his head slightly to look at his wife, another wave of laughter would flatten him back to the floor and hold him there without mercy. Now, Catherine's hilarity had shifted its focus, as the sight of Henry on the floor had set her off again.

"Ca-Catherine!" Henry gasped between surges of laughter, "We- I have to stop! Where's your chamber pot?! Quick!" He fell back at his own humour, rolling once more, while his comment pushed Catherine over the edge, literally. Onto the rug she tumbled with a soft thump, landing at Henry's feet and convulsing with hysterical laughter. Tears poured down their faces. Heaven knew what the guards outside the doors must be thinking!

Henry staggered to his feet and made his way over to his wife's bedchambers to use her chamber pot. Still chuckling he returned to find his wife a little more composed, but not quite able to pick herself up off the floor. He held out his hand to her, his eyes twinkling merrily, and she returned his happy gaze and accepted his hand. Pulling Catherine to her feet, Henry steadied her as she swayed.

"Are you alright, Catherine?"

"Perhaps I stood up too quickly." She passed her hand across her eyes, "All the laughing… I can't catch my breath well enough. I just feel a little dizzy. Could you – would you mind unlacing my dress a little. It's too tight and I need to breathe."

She turned her back to her husband, and he took the end of a gold lace in his fingers, pausing just for a moment to appreciate the soft skin at the nape of her neck, before pulling the ties undone, and using his fingers to unthread the top few holes of the corset-style gown. Loosening the remaining ties below those, he stood back a pace while Catherine shrugged and twisted her torso carefully, arranging herself more comfortably and freely within her dress.

She turned back to face him and he drew in a sharp breath. He was intoxicated. More by Catherine than by the wine. Her dress loose at the bodice and neckline, her skin flushed and perspiring lightly. Her perfect lips slightly open, almost in a silent question as she gazed deep into his eyes. He instinctively reached out and touched her cheek, smoothing her soft skin gently. Her gaze was unwavering, and just as deep and longing as his own, and since tonight was apparently about abandon… Henry reached up to stroke her silky coppery locks, touching those little curls that framed her face at last, and finding that they did indeed spring back after they had passed through his fingertips. Decisively, he reached back and pulled the large pin from Catherine's hair, feeling for the two smaller ones and lifting her crown away as it cascaded down her back and over her shoulders like a sunset waterfall. Still she gazed into him, and he was glad that she had not turned away.

No words passed between them as Henry drew her closer to himself, running his fingers softly through her hair. How he loved her hair! She closed her eyes, swaying slightly, as she enjoyed the feel of his warm fingers cupping the back of her head and rippling through her tresses. It made her feel drowsy and tingly, and she had missed his touch. Gone were the thoughts of keeping her husband at arm's length. Gone was the concern about guarding her heart – for tonight. She was aware through her haze that she would not be letting this happen if she had not been drinking so much wine, but she no longer cared. Reaching up to stroke the rough stubble of his cheeks, she willed him closer with her eyes. As if in answer, Henry tipped her chin up with his forefinger, and leaned down to kiss her softly – ever so softly. A slow, lingering kiss where just their lips brushed together. He could smell the wine on her breath, mixed with his own as they breathed each other in.

Catherine's hands slid up his back, one holding his body to her, and the other snaking up behind his head. At that moment, all she could think about was how much she wanted her husband. Not just in terms of desire, but just inexplicably, to be as one flesh, and one person again. So close that there was no space for "between" them, because there could be no between, such was their oneness. She did desire him though, and she could see that he felt the same way.

Reaching behind her shoulders, Henry began slowly unthreading each of the ties on her dress, one by one. As he worked, Catherine lifted her mouth to his again, and kissed him with desire and longing. Her lips soft and open, urging him to melt into her the way she wanted him to. His hands stilled as he met her kiss with his own passion, brushing his tongue lightly against hers as he explored her. Breaking the kiss momentarily, he pushed her dress down and over her hips to fall to the floor, as she undid his doublet and undershirt, pushing them back over his shoulders as she did so.

As they undressed each other, they looked into each other, connecting deeply, not wanting to break the moment, but needing to be closer – less between them. Once their clothes had been discarded and there were no barriers between their bodies, they stilled, almost awkwardly, for a moment.

Henry's hands rested on Catherine's bare shoulders, and he ran them up the sides of her neck and cupped her face gently. All they could hear was the sound of the fire burning low with little crackles, and the sound of their breathing – faster and more earnest than usual.

Henry took in all of his wife's beauty. The honey tone of her eyes, the dimples in her cheeks as she smiled up at him expectantly, her sweet little nose – he kissed the tip of it immediately, being unable to resist, and then pulled back slightly to look into her eyes.

" _Catherine._ " He breathed. Even her name was beauty, the way it rolled softly off his tongue. He pulled her gently to him and wrapped his arms around her. They reveled in the gorgeous feeling of bare skin against bare skin.

" _Henry._ " She whispered, answering him back. Even with their naked bodies pressed together, still it did not feel close enough for Catherine. She caressed his back, and let her hands wander down to smooth the firm roundness of his buttocks, feeling his erection press into her stomach as her movements pulled his body further into hers. God, how she wanted him! Was it the wine? Or was this how it was supposed to be, only they had forgotten the way, and the wine had opened it up again?

Henry was turning her, twisting her around so that her back was facing him. Catherine's hands were reluctantly pulled away from her enjoyable activity, and she lifted her arm up behind her head to run her fingers into his hair as he leaned his head down to kiss her neck and shoulder. His arms encircled her soft belly, hands smoothing her skin upwards to touch her breasts. Holding them both in his hands, Henry groaned. How long it had been – how he had missed this! All women had breasts, but Catherine's were the perfect fit for his hands. He squeezed them gently, and ran the pads of his thumbs over her nipples. She writhed her backside against him gently in response, sighing with pleasure, and he was filled with desire for her.

Scooping her up in his arms, Henry carried her to the bed, placing each step with purpose and care, aware of how the wine still affected him. He placed her carefully down in the silky sheets, and kissed her passionately. Catherine kissed him back with all her need, all her longing, all her desire. Moaning softly as their tongues swept together again and again, Henry ran his hands over his wife. He could not touch her enough! How soft and supple her skin was, how delicious she tasted as he kissed her, and as his fingers found their way further down her body, he all but gasped as he finally reached the treasure between her thighs. Heat radiated from her here, and she was deliciously wet already. It would be easy to bring her the pleasure he was longing to give to her. He stroked her slowly, tracing his fingers through her wetness, and she moaned softly, long and low. She writhed under his attentive caresses, and opened her legs wider for him. Slipping his fingers inside her and then up again to her most sensitive part, he relished in her sighs and whimpers, as he repeated his pattern, building her up from movements so slow that she seemed driven to the brink of insanity with pleasure, to faster ministrations that had her gasping and pulling at him in her need.

Suddenly she stilled his hand, her breath fast and ragged. "I want you." She ground out, huskily, her eyes filled with desire for him. Henry put his free hand to her breast, but she stilled that too. "Henry, I – please. I want you. Take me, now."

Henry needed no further encouragement. Shifting his hips to lay cradled between her legs, he entered her slowly, luxuriously - blissfully enjoying the glorious sensation of becoming one with his beautiful wife. Catherine let out a soft cry of pleasure as Henry began rocking her, gently but deeply. She lifted her legs and locked her ankles behind his back allowing him to go deeper still. Their pleasure mounting, they writhed together, locked in a dance of ecstasy. Even as physically united as they were, still Catherine longed for more, deeper, closer. She slid her arms over his back, trying to feel as much of him as possible.

Henry's breath was coming faster now, closing the gap, and he could feel Catherine was nearing her release too. He thrust into her faster, deeper, edging them both closer, higher, the coil winding tighter and tighter. Reaching the edge of her peak, pleasure like Catherine had forgotten existed coursed through her veins, as she cried out over and over, the world shuddering and exploding around her. Her ecstasy brought Henry over the edge of his own release, and he drove into her one last time, spilling forth his passion for her as she came back down to earth.

They clung to each other for a long time, bathed in sweat which mingled against their bodies pressed together, just breathing, breathing, holding, clinging. They did not know what tomorrow would bring, or what any part of the future would bring. They only knew _now,_ this moment of pure perfection, of complete _one-ness_. And for now, that was enough.


End file.
